R is for Revenge
by JoeMerl
Summary: With Charlie's help, six-year-old Ron gets some payback after one of Fred and George's pranks. One-shot.


**Author's Notes:** Written for the Weasley Fan Club on Deviantart, as part of their club-wide 100 Themes Challenge. I've actually been working on it off-and-on for months; I'm sorry it's taken so long, but I said I would get it done eventually!

I'm not sure if all the timeline facts are right, and hopefully everyone's in character enough (I don't remember Charlie getting enough book-time to have much of his personality fleshed out). Enjoy!

* * *

"_J...K...elemeno..._"

"No, Ron. _L-M-N-O._"

"What?"

"_Elemeno_ isn't a letter. It's _L_ as in _love, M_ as in _magic, N_ as in _nogtail_ and _O_ as in _owl._"

Ron blinked. "Oh. Sorry."

"That's alright," Mrs. Weasley said wearily, waving her hand—it was the sort of mistake she had correct for each of his older brothers at one point. "Keep going."

"Um, _L...M...N...O..._um, _O...O…_"

"_MOM!_"

Ron jumped as Mrs. Weasley sighed, standing up. "Just a moment!" She turned back to her youngest son. "Just work on it until I get back," she instructed.

She left the room, trudging upstairs to where Ginny was screaming from her and Ron's bedroom. Ron turned back to the kitchen table, which was covered in the supplies his mother used for homeschooling the children who were too young to go away for school. They were actually all home for Easter holiday, but Ron was stuck with lessons still. Apparently he was behind where his mum thought he should be.

What else was new?

Ron bit his lip as he picked up an alphabet book, flipping through the pages—he knew that he was close to _R,_ his favorite letter (because _Ron_ started with _R,_ in case you didn't realize), but what were those couple letters that came between it and _elemeno?_

Absorbed in his work, Ron didn't notice as two identical mops of red hair and pairs of blue eyes poked up from the counter behind him, or hear the slight giggling as the two began to creep around and come towards him.

"_N...O..._"

One of the boys held up a small spider by one leg as he crept.

"_P_ is for..._plimpy..._"

The other boy held up a wand.

"_Q_ is for..._Quidditch..._"

They were only a few feet away now. The boy with the wand poked it at the spider, whispering a badly-mangled incantation; it had its desired effect, however, as the little creature grew in his brother's fingers, suddenly swelling up to the size of a tarantula.

"And then _R_ is for _Ron!_"

"And _S_ is for _SPIDER!_"

"_Whuh—AGH!_"

As soon as Ron spun around George set the spider flying, letting it land right on his six-year-old brother's face. Ron let out a scream and fell out of his chair, furiously trying to throw it away, but the spider was just as confused and scared as he was and went running right down the front of his shirt, making the small boy thrash wildly as Fred and George doubled over with laughter.

The door opened—the twins quickly spun around, wide-eyed as Ron continued to scream and slap wildly at his shirt.

"Hey, has anyone seen my wa_—hey!_"

The twins pushed Charlie aside and ran giggling out of the room, throwing his stolen wand into the air as they went. Charlie caught it and blinked confusedly for a moment before noticing his other brother, still writhing and now crying as he tried to get the spider out of his clothes.

* * *

Ron was sitting in the room he shared with Ginny, hunched over angrily on his bed as he listened to his mother screaming in another part of the house. Her words were familiar, like a ritual—how could you do that, scared your poor little brother half to death, what is _wrong_ with the two of you, and wipe that smirk off your face right now before I hex it off, Fred.

The image of that smirk on his brother's face made Ron's scowl deepen, and he sniffled, rubbing his runny nose so hard that it hurt. Stupid Fred. Stupid George. They were always being mean to him. They never picked on anybody else as much as they did to him—not even Ginny, and she was even younger than he was. It wasn't fair.

Ron heard his mum's voice finally die down with an order that Fred and George stay in their room for the rest of the day, followed by a slamming door. Ron sighed. Same old punishment. Wouldn't make a bit of difference.

There was a soft knock at his door. "Come in," Ron mumbled.

He was expecting his mother. Instead Charlie came into the room, carrying a wooden box under one arm. Ron blinked a bit confusedly. Charlie gave him a sympathetic look.

"You okay, Ron?"

The younger brother gave a grunt and went back to looking at the floor.

"Yeah. Fred and George can be a pest sometimes, can't they?"

"I hate them."

"Oh, no you don't. You can't hate your brothers."

"Yes I can."

"No, trust me. I used to try it with Percy but it just never worked." Charlie gingerly sat down on the bed beside Ron, patting his shoulder with his free hand. "But those two certainly like to shirk their big brotherly duties to you, don't they?"

"I wish I could get back at them," Ron grumbled.

"Oh, well, Ron—_whoa!_"

The box under Charlie's arm suddenly gave a sharp, violent shake. Ron jumped half a foot in the air, but Charlie motioned calmly. "Don't worry, the box is locked," he said, patting it on the side. "No way this thing is getting out."

Ron eyed the box warily. "What's in there?"

"What, this? Just a boggart. Do you know what a boggart is, Ron?"

He nodded slowly. "Those can turn into monsters and stuff, right?"

"Oh, monsters, wild animals, Aunt Muriel in a bikini—whatever scares you the most, really. If it got out right now, for example, it'd probably turn into a spider even bigger than the one Fred and George used on you." He paused. "Or Aunt Muriel in a bikini. Depends which of us it goes for first, I suppose."

"But why do you have one?"

"Oh, just a little Care of Magical Creatures homework that I took home with me over Easter holidays. Anyway, don't worry, this box is locked tight. No way this thing is getting out unless somebody uses the key that I keep on my desk right next to my school books."

Ron quirked an eyebrow at that oddly-specific statement. Charlie gave him a wry grin.

"Anyway, Ron, I'm just sorry the twins gave you such a hard time earlier. Pity there's nothing you can do to get back at them." He rose to his feet, struggling for a moment as the box gave another lurch. "Heh, this thing is feisty today, isn't it? Anyway, Bill and I are going outside to throw the Quaffle around for a little bit. I'll just go put this back in my unlocked room, right on my desk next to the key that I just mentioned." He winked at Ron, whose eyes widened. "See you later, okay?"

He left the room, and a moment later Ron heard the back door slam closed as Charlie and Bill went into the yard. Ron paused for the briefest of moments before dashing out of the room, racing upstairs to the bedroom door that Charlie hadn't even bothered to close.

* * *

Fred and George were grumbling in their room.

"This book is boring."

"Everything's boring."

"Are we sure Mom took _all_ the potion ingredients?"

"She missed the mustard seeds, but there's not much we can do with just those."

Ron tiptoed up to the door. It was slightly ajar, giving him a partial view of his brothers' bedroom. He held the box so tightly against his chest he thought it might break apart in his hands.

He had already taken off the lock. Now he just had to unclasp the handle…

The boggart, as if sensing its approaching freedom, suddenly shook the box violently, nearly causing Ron to drop it. Inside the room, Fred suddenly asked "What was that?"

It was now or never—Ron sucked in a deep breath, kicked the door open wider and threw the chest into room, screaming "_REVENGE!_"

"What the—"

"_Agh!_"

Ron didn't stick around to see what happened—he was too terrified seeing a monstrous spider—so he quickly pressed himself to the wall next to the twins' room, shutting his eyes tightly. He heard a great _whoosh_ing sound, and then a roar, and the sounds of both his brothers screaming, falling off their beds and tripping over their feet as they scrambled for the exit in terror—

"_AAAGGGHHH!_"

Fred and George ran past without even noticing Ron, as he fell onto his hands and knees and began to convulse with deep, lung-aching laughter.

* * *

As Fred or George could have told you, Mrs. Weasley was an expert at killing a good time.

"I can't believe you! _Either_ of you!" she snapped, shifting her furious gaze to Charlie. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this little stunt was? !"

"But Mum, it was just a bogga—"

"And boggarts can't hurt people, can they?" Her gaze made Charlie wince and turn red. "It could have turned into a, a—a dragon or a Nundu or who know's what else? Do you think Professor Kettleburn gave you this assignment so that you could play childish pranks on eight-year-old boys, Charlie? !"

"…Probably not?"

"But Mum—"

"_Yes,_ Ron?" Ron's blanched as Mrs. Weasley's gaze turned back to him. He gulped.

"But…Fred and George…did it first…spider?" he mumbled feebly, looking down at his feet.

"Yes, and I _already punished them_ for that! Them doing something wrong does not give you the right to go and be just as bad as they were! For goodness' sakes, Ron, I expect _better_ than them from you!"

Ron blinked, looking up from the floor to stare at her in astonishment. "You _do?_"

"_Yes!_ Both of you," she added, sending Charlie another fierce look. Ron, however, continued to gaze in shock—admittedly "better behaved than Fred or George" wasn't a very high standard, but Ron couldn't remember any other time his parents had compared him favorably to one of his siblings.

"Ron! Wipe that smile off your face, young man!"

"Er—sorry," he said quickly, forcing an expression of misery on his face. Mrs. Weasley gazed at him suspiciously before sending him and Charlie to their rooms for the rest of the day.

* * *

**A/N:** I'll let you decide what the boggart turned into. (My guess is a roaring Aunt Muriel in a bikini.) Whatever it was, just assume that Charlie or Mrs. Weasley subdued it "off-screen."

Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
